


Tales of Nyanmar Agriculture (Part I)

by Sexsuna



Series: Nyanmar Bestiary [3]
Category: Nyanworld
Genre: Anal Sex, Eaten by monster, Everyone Is Gay, Fantasy, Fellatio, Fetish Clothing, Fingering, Homosexuality, Industrial fantasy, Latex, M/M, Masturbation, Monsters, Multi, Promiscuity, Sexual Frustration, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexsuna/pseuds/Sexsuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meat-farm in a heavily forested wilderness in Nyanmar is attacked by a strange, mythical beast...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of Nyanmar Agriculture (Part I)

**I.**

”Nyaoya, you aren’t allowed to touch my cock, so why do you keep trying to reach in under my skirt?” There was a stern face of disapproval looking down upon him, and he withdrew his hand and pouted.

“Yu-ze said it was fine and that you wanted me to touch you there...”

The taller boy rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t listen to him, he talks nonsense. He’s just trying to get you in trouble. And he’s a pervert.”

“But...” Nyaoya continued, pleading, “Mitsu, I’ve seen Yu-ze get to touch you there... why can’t I?”

“There’s shit on your hands.”

“Shit? No, this isn’t shit from some animal; this is just some lubrication gel they sold at the store...”

“Why is it on your hands?”

“To... make it a more pleasurable experience for you.” Nyaoya blushed noticeably. “Why don’t you want to play with me? You’re not one of those... _exclusives_ , are you?”

Mitsu frowned with annoyance. “Shut up!” he said, “or you’ll get the honour of cleaning out the Niku-ju enclosures tomorrow. Then it _will_ be shit on your hands for sure.”

Nyaoya shrugged and turned his back to the window through which Mitsu was surveying the landscapes outside and walked towards the door, disappointed at having been rejected. He wasn’t sure if the problem with the avoidance was that Mitsu was an exclusive – that was what those who didn’t like the thought of having many partners at once were called – or if it was just a question of Nyaoya himself not striking Mitsu’s fancy. Nevertheless, it was no use thinking too much about it, so Nyaoya went on his merry way, down the stairs, where lay the large dining hall, with reddish wooden chairs and aluminium tables. Voluminous red satin curtains made the atmosphere of the hall cosy, and even now, in near total emptiness, it felt welcoming and populated.

He made for the bathroom and washed his hands clean of the gel that was turning more liquid from exposure to the outside world. In the shower he saw two others locked in wet embrace, but looked the other way and hurried out of there. He left the three-story small block which was classified as a “Rural Multi-Purpose Communal Block Type CFM-3K” in the architecture society’s design document commissioned for housing on farms and other small-scale rural facilities, and walked along a stone-laid path until some large trees hid the block from view, and himself from the view of anyone in there. He noticed that he had come up to the fence of one of the Niku-ju enclosures, but could see none of the peculiar creatures, slow and impressively stout as they had become in the process of domestication. He continued on the path until he came to a small stream, partially included within the enclosure, where usually at least a few specimens would lie revelling in the waters.

There were none around. He considered passing over the masonry bridge to the enclosures further out, but decided against it, and turned his heels and began walking back to the house. He was sleepy, he realised, and the sky was darkening quickly, the western horizon slowly being filled by a vast mushrooming thunderstorm which, judging by the movement of smaller clouds closer by, headed straight for the farm. He hurried his way back to the house.

Most of the first floor was dark. He heard nothing until he came up to the second floor common room, right next to the stair, where sat in the flickering red light of a burning scent-rich candle blue-haired Yu-ze and some other staff – his face burrowed into Yu-ze’s armpit – and Nyaoya stopped and turned to Yu-ze, who made some halting gesture with his hand.

“Hey, Nyaoya,” he said, “have you seen Mitsu?”

“He’s on the top floor still, if not already sleeping, I guess,” Nyaoya replied. “What do you want him for?”

“Oh, nothing,” Yu-ze said. “It’s just that I haven’t seen him all day. He seemed awfully off-put this morning for some reason. Do you know what it is about? I found it very odd, really, like he was...” There was a brief pause. “Jealous, yes, like he was jealous!” Yu-ze’s voice went louder, attained a more rough quality, with a hint of mocking sarcasm. “That can’t be the case, though, can it?”

Nyaoya thought for a while of what he ought to say. “I don’t know,” he finally exclaimed. “He hasn’t said anything like that to me.” Nyaoya did indeed know – without Mitsu’s confirmation of course – but thought it would be inappropriate of him to share such a secret with Yu-ze. It would spread around the place in no time, and beyond too, to the nearest city; in the shops of that town the laughter would never cease.

Nyaoya thought it might mayhap be appropriate to change subject, before Yu-ze saw he was hiding something. “The enclosure,” he said, “I didn’t see any animals around at all.”

“No reason to worry, really,” Yu-ze replied, with his hand reaching around the back of the one buried in his chest; a darling tentacular embrace. “It might be the bad weather coming. We’ll see tomorrow.”

Nyaoya nodded and continued up the stairs, leaving the sweet love-birds on their own. As he went up the last few steps, the shadow cast by Yu-ze’s hand brushing past the candle seemed to him like the dark foreboding shape of some bestial animal as it gobbled up the sun, like the bleak Matorashi of ancient legend and mythology; the Devourer of the Sun.

He didn’t see Mitsu anywhere. Not that he looked very hard. He felt suddenly exhausted, blamed the weather, cursed and undressed. Put his clothes in order, waggling his tail with eagerness for bed, and put on a short soft thin fabric one-piece dress; with short arms and a tiny frilled skirt that barely covered his buttocks and privates; its colour was golden, though the light offered no clear vision thereof. He nestled himself silently in between the sheets.

He dreamt that night of walking along a waterside promenade in a town he had never seen before, whose low-rise buildings struck him as out-dated and old, the rejected antiques of a long lost generation; and in a shop towards the cobblestone way stood a fat Germoid with a butcher-knife pointing at him, facial muscles contorted in the most profane way, the pores like sick oily craters from which flowed a yellow pus, and the mouth like a dark necrotic wound; the eyes were like windows in which sputtered the final flames of the coming doomsday. And then he heard what the Germoid was saying, in his own tongue, without accent or mispronunciation: “If they are not fed they will take what they need, take what they need,” and then, over and over again was that very same fragment repeated, like a distorted radio broadcast.

 

**II.**

Something that seemed like big fat tentacles came out of the dreamy mists and shook him wide awake in a few seconds. He saw soon that they were the arms of Mitsu, and into the land where those wide roads led was a face with a surprised and almost frightened look. He was saying something. Nyaoya listened.

“Wake up! Something terrible has happened! It’s beyond belief; you must see it right away!”

“What?” Nyaoya said groggily. “What are you talking about? Is it really so important I can’t go on with my sleep?”

“Yes... the enclosures... something has destroyed them!”

Nyaoya got quickly to his feet, and they hurried down the stairs and out into the frigid night air. The stars were out, hidden only in places by scattered clouds, one of which seemed lit ghostly greenish-white by the moon it partially obscured. There was no sign of the storm he had seen before; it must have evaporated or suddenly changed course, for the weather was presently rather tranquil. Mitsu had an electric torch in his hand and it illumined the path ahead of them as they approached the enclosures.

The enclosures were large rectangular affairs separated by walkways paved with concrete, and their walls were a thick wire mesh spanned between sturdy black steel supports. Now, as they came up to one of them, Nyaoya saw that the wire mesh had been torn clean off the supporting posts. There was no doubt that such a vicious thing could not have been done by the staple animal for which the enclosures were intended, the large but extremely docile Hikou-Niku, the _Flying Flesh_. They were large flightless birds which bred at a very rapid rate and, with their bulky bodies and friendly temperament, made an ideal meat-cattle.

“What could have done this, Nya-chan? Have you ever seen something like this before?”

“No,” Nyaoya confessed quite rightly, “but... I have read about something similar. It had been observed at a farm close to the border with Germanium, far to the north.”

“Really? You read too many fancy magazines, you know.”

“Don’t be dismissive. This was a number of years ago, indeed it might even have been before the revolution, and the descriptions are uncertain and dubious, but the story goes that a strange critter appeared suddenly, and attacked the farm.”

“Critter?”

“Critters, rather, I should say,” Nyaoya went on, “for there was a large herd of the things. This is old, perhaps legendary stuff, though, so I’m not sure if it has anything to do with our current predicament. We should go into the enclosure and see if there are any cattle left.”

“You’re right, we must act professionally. Check on the stock...” Mitsu let the light pass over the shrubs and fern-trees that grew in the enclosure, casting deranged black shadows that yawned like limitless abyssal depths. He took a few cautious steps, and soon Nyaoya followed suit, making their way into the enclosure.

The Hikou-Niku were dead. At least six of them they found in a clearing near where they had entered the enclosures; though determining the number of specimens was only possible thanks to the large beaked heads (with great numbers of thin, irregular teeth that the species used for grazing fern trees and shrubbery) that lay about; the rest of the bodies were almost entirely missing. Nyaoya and Mitsu found a detached leg. The top was crowned by a serrated fleshly cut.

“This is really weird,” Nyaoya said. “I can’t think of any animal living in these parts that could possibly do something like this.”

“I can,” said Mitsu. “It reminds me of the legends of the Sentient Fern Beasts.”

“But those are just animal-eating giant plants in the Southern Swamps?”

“No... That’s what it was assumed they were, when those plants were classified. But they don’t really match up entirely _with the old legends_.”

“I didn’t know you were into this stuff, too.”

Mitsu kept shining his torch in every direction, as if hoping the light would scare away any potential monster his mind could conjure up. He let out a laugh which was as sincere as a temple master’s praise for his underlings, and continued: “I am, but... We can talk more about that later. The old legends, however, spoke of plants that were clearly animate. They moved of their own volition; they did not just sit in place and wait for their prey.”

“But why would we be dealing with those now?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a better idea?”

“Truth be told, I do not; these forests are supposed to be harmless and domesticated; but we should probably avoid running headfirst into premature conclusions before we have a good understanding of the situation.”

Then, the sound of glass shattering and someone screaming, back in the direction of the housing complex.

They didn’t say anything more then, but both of them ran back in that direction; the light of the torch played on the path, and then they came to the house. Something was there, moving, alongside the façade, something which had never been there before. It was enormous, two and a half storeys tall it rose alongside the wall, and leaned dangerously against the building. It moved; a slow, hypnotic movement.

“Aim your torch at it!” Nyaoya requested.

But the light did little to explain the bizarre form any better. At its base, it seemed to be a mottled mess of roots which trembled with life, like a blasphemous den of angry snakes stirred in their hibernation. The movements were strange and erratic, and it seemed that it moved not so much at the behest of some singular drive, but on the myriad twitches of those millions of roots. Further up, the lamp revealed a bark-like texture as the thing tapered off into a stem. At the top of the stem flailed like the arms of the desperate insane a bundle of tentacular growths, wet with some golden sap. Their movement was clearly cohesive and organised; some of them slipped in and out of windows, and then—

One slipped out of a window carrying with it a Nyanma. Nyaoya could not make out if he knew the person or not, but soon he had been dropped over the top of the stem, which seemed to possess something akin to a mouth, for the poor sod’s screams were soon quieted and wet, mushy sounds of detangled flesh took their place. Around the top of the stem, just below the hole from which the tentacle-arms sprouted, was a ring of palm-leaf growths.

“Sentient Fern-Beast!” Mitsu said. “I knew it!”

“Wh... what do we do about it? It’s trying to eat us. Probably it already ate all the cattle...”

“We need to go inside,” Mitsu said. “We need to get everyone into the basement shelter.”

It was a good suggestion, Nyaoya thought; and Mitsu dropped the torch and ran up the stairs, with Nyaoya not far on his tail. In through the door; two others stood there, the current kitchen staff; they looked perplexed. Mitsu stopped and said something to them, then he turned to Nyaoya.

“Go to the second floor and make sure no one is near the windows, then get everyone down to the basement!”

Nyaoya nodded, and ran up to the second floor. A number had gathered in the central hall, and he told them to head down to the stairs. All bed rooms were empty except one. The door was locked from the inside. He ran back and grabbed one of the lamps in the hall, unplugged it and took it back to the door, then slammed it hard against the lock mechanism until it fell out and the door opened.

He went inside, and Yu-ze sat on his knees on the floor facing the window. He was crying.

“It... took Youmei,” he said. “It just came bursting in through the glass and took him right from my arms...”

“Come on,” Nyaoya said, “it’s not the time for that right now, we have to get down into the basement shelter, or that thing will eat us all. Let’s go!” He reached for Yu-ze’s arm, tugged at it, and he managed to get Yu-ze on his legs with some reluctance. They ran back out into the hall, just as the tentacles tried to enter through the bedroom window once again; the wood in the window frame splintered; then the floor shook beneath them.

The thing was trying to enter the building through the wall!

They hurried down the stairs. The walls trembled, but held firm. Upstairs, the sound of ceiling collapsing. They went down the second flight, then the third, and they were in the basement. The rest of the inhabitants stood at the door to the shelter room, that massive thick steel door which weighed hundreds of kilos, and they shouted, and Yu-ze and Nyaoya ran as fast as they could on the home stretch, and then fell to the floor panting exhaustedly.

 

**III.**

In the morning, when things were quiet, after a restless sleep, they left the shelter. The survivors moved around anxiously, thinking constantly that if they saw that walking fern-tree again, they would pounce right back to the shelter. The thing was, however, nowhere to be seen. Severe damage had been done to the façade and the wall, where the thing had tried to enter the house. It had only been partially successful, and seemed to have given up after they all disappeared into the basement shelter; probably it had moved on thereafter.

“Maybe it returned wherever it came from,” Mitsu said with a hopeful tone. “And won’t bother us none.” He stood next to a fallen tree, brushed down by the beast, the sun glinting off his shiny black dress. Nyaoya couldn’t see anyone else around. He didn’t have thoughts of the Fern-Beast on his mind; he had thoughts of Mitsu’s cock. He moved closer.

“It’s probably off eating some village,” he said nonchalantly. “That’s not our problem, though. But I do have a problem you can help me with.”

“What?” said Mitsu genuinely.

“My mind, and my cock, crave you, Mitsu... You must let me taste you.”

“We’ve been over this, I don’t want to...”

“But why not? What if we are eaten by the Fern-Beast in an hour? What if it just suddenly digs itself out of the earth, right here, and devours us all? What can we do? We can fuck!”

“But...”

“Do you not like how I look? Do you not like my black ears and tail? My orange hair? Last night Yu-ze was cuddling with Youmei... before he was snatched up by the beast... So why can’t you play with me, too?”

The part about Yu-ze seemed to have the most effect. Mitsu’s face suddenly changed expression, at first a horrified glance, then something like indifference.

“Okay,” he said after a pause. “I’ll do what you want me to. I’ll put it in your arse. Will that make you happy?”

“Will it ever! Daemons and pederasts, it’s what I’ve always wanted, since I first saw you wank the first day I was here!” Nyaoya fell to his knees, and reached under Mitsu’s skirt, and found that humongous tool swaying half-hard.

“Yu-ze probably only liked me for the size of my member...” Mitsu said despondently, and meanwhile, Nyaoya licked it from the glans and up to the nest, and down again, drooling over it. With a hand he rubbed the drool over the surface, to make it ready for his arse. He had never taken such a large one before, and he was excited, his own erection hard as granite.

“I think he still likes you,” Nyaoya said. “I just don’t think he quite understands your situation.” He let his hands slide up and down along Mitsu’s mighty shaft a few times, then stood up, face to face with him.

“He... doesn’t know?”

“That you are like _that_? An... _exclusive_? No.” Nyaoya leaned in close, their lips about to meet, but Mitsu turned his face away. His prick, however, remained as hard, and Nyaoya raised his buttocks a bit higher, so that pressing himself against Mitsu’s body, he could press the upward-angled cock into his hole. He eased himself onto it, his arse pleasantly dilating to accommodate the vast tool; Mitsu had no choice but to moan.

“You can pretend I’m Yu-ze, if that makes you feel better,” Nyaoya said, moving upwards on the prick, then slipping down again. “You’re just... getting him back.”

“Stop... talking,” Mitsu said and grabbed hold of Nyaoya, leaned back against the tree, and pushed him up and down on the erection. Nyaoya felt the air escape his lungs, surprised as he was with this sudden decisive action, but nevertheless—he soon gathered himself and enjoyed it.

Mitsu pulled out, pushed Nyaoya over the tree trunk, and then pushed himself in again from behind. Nyaoya felt Mitsu’s warm sweaty hands on his shoulders as he fucked away, keeping up a pleasant pace until he suddenly pulled out and shot a cascade of white slime from the tip of his penis over Nyaoya’s lower spine and tail, which he proceeded to pull at impishly.

“Do you feel any better?” Nyaoya asked, turning around and righting himself.

Mitsu still seemed despondent and looked down with embarrassment.

“I should leave,” he said. “I can’t be here... not now.” He walked off briskly, thoughtful from the looks of it. Nyaoya didn’t follow.

He hadn’t got the opportunity to spend himself, so sat his arse down on the trunk and began to pull himself off. Not a thought did he dedicate to that fern-beast, that monstrosity; instead his mind was mesmerised by the merry memory of having finally been fucked by Mitsu, and having the honour of being allowed to suck his lovely cock. To this wondrous recollection he soon came, caught the load in his hand and licked it up.

 

**IV.**

A meeting was held. How to proceed, where to go, what to do? The weapons available were not going to be adequate for what they had to do. They could never neutralise that violation of nature.

Mitsu suggested he’d go to the nearby city and look for the location of the local emergency weapons cache. Such things had been distributed throughout, making it likely one was within range, though locating it would prove a challenge without checking in with the city administrations documentation. Mitsu was too enamoured with his idea and a hopeful glint of eventual heroism to see that it would be easier to go through the city’s administration, so ran off on his own.

Yu-ze, with some concerns, came to Nyaoya, and suggested they meanwhile would head to the city to make sure that the information regarding the reprehensible attack be shared.

“That’s the most reasonable course of action, is it not?” Yu-ze put both his hands to either side of his black latex-wrapped midriff; his long blue hair hung down below the navel. Nyaoya nodded, and they said farewells to the others and promised that they’d see about getting assistance, to at least temporarily repair the building before night fell anew.

Yu-ze and Nyaoya thus made their way towards the nearest settlement. There was a concrete laid approach to the entrance to the farming complex, and they followed this down the short distance to the main road and the interurban tramway, as well as the warehouse complex where the supplies and produce to and from the farm were delivered. A sign pointed north towards the town; they followed it, strutting along the concrete sidewalks, until a tram came rattling along; they waved their arms at the driver, and it halted. Being an early trip, there were only two other passengers. They told the driver of the urgency to get to the town, and the driver assured that they would go without stopping. The passengers didn’t mind, they were going there anyhow; so Yu-ze and Nyaoya sat down in the rear and the tram began to roll.

Eventually the settlement came into view, visible as the tram and the road laid together snaked their way down a steep slope. It was a smaller settlement, consisting of plentiful older buildings a mere two to five storeys in height, some even seeming to predate concrete construction; wooden frames and shingled roofs, some of them set along narrow alleyways radiating off the main thoroughfares like rows, and others complexes that must once have been the castles and mansions of regional potentates, now communal housing. The tram passed through without stopping until they reached the large roundabout square next to the railway station. Across the square from it towered the city administration building, a stark block some eight storeys tall of unpainted concrete with spacious balconies running along all sides, windows set back.

Leaving the tram, they headed right for the main entrance. A large glass double door greeted them and they went on in. On their left, next to a waiting seat, a door stood ajar to a supply closet filled with papers and notebooks and what looked like a steam-cleaning machine. No one tended to the reception desk at the moment, but as he prepared to continue on in order to find someone to talk to, Yu-ze took hold of his hand and pulled him off into the closet and closed the door behind them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’m really horny. I want to fuck...” He reached for Nyaoya’s cock, which was still flaccid—owing to the circumstances, he thought. And it was Yu-ze...

“But what of—” he began, “Mitsu? He’d be mad at me for sure.”

“So what! Is that going to stop you? It’s his own down fault for being like he is! Petty, individual... he doesn’t listen to reason! Now put your hands on the wall there, and let me fuck you. Flip that skirt up and show your slutty bottom!”

“What about the mission we’re on?”

“Ten minutes, it can wait that long! Now, bottom!”

Nyaoya leaned as prescribed, reaching around with one hand and flipping his pleated latex skirt over his his arched back.

Yu-ze pulled the skirt of his dress up too, frigging his stiff erection, then spat down on it and rubbed the saliva over it before he let it dig its way in between Nyaoya’s buttocks, parting them like the Red Sea during some volcanic calamity. The saliva coating stuck to it as he pushed it in like a lance through a body in the finale to some gruesome medieval duel; Nyaoya moaned, then his sphincter gave way and it slipped farther inside.

“That’s a right good tight little arse!” Yu-ze exclaimed and let his hand slap across the buttocks as he made the final push and drove it to the hilt; Nyaoya felt the testes slap against his perineum with a pleasant tickle. Yu-ze reached down with his hand towards Nyaoya’s cock, gripped it firmly and began to stroke it in tune with his eager, muscular thrusts. Nyaoya’s head drooped, and he saw Yu-ze’s stockinged legs muscularly contract as he pushed and then relaxed; the rhythm of powerful industrial machines powered by pulsating electric currents; felt Yu-ze’s warm palm around his own now engorged length, as the fucking kept up, thrust by thrust.

Nyaoya was the first to spend. He came, and Yu-ze caught the cream in the palm of his hand, wherefrom he licked it off like some exotic delicacy. Yu-ze kept fucking for a while, until he pulled out suddenly. Nyaoya could hear him frig himself vigorously.

“Turn around,” he commanded with authority unquestionable, “face me, and I’ll come in your mouth.”

Nyaoya turned around. Yu-ze looked energised where he stood, frigging for all that he was worth. His eyes looked absent, dreamy, off somewhere the clouds were fluffy; Nyaoya knelt down before him and opened his mouth to receive the blessing of that meat-staff.

Yu-ze’s gaze met his. “Okay!” he said, having landed once more on terra firma, “about to—come!”

A gob of semen shot out from the slit at the top of his cock, followed by some more ejecta. Only the first managed to hit where he aimed—Nyaoya’s mouth—and the rest came on the navel, and finally the floor.

Nyaoya leaned closer and took the staff in his mouth, while frigging out whatever was left of spendings inside that thick, sturdy tube. He swallowed what of the paste he could get out, and Yu-ze patted his head approvingly. When they were done, they slipped out of the closet—no doubt they were far from the first to go in there for such activities, though many public buildings had dedicated rooms for such, so that staff could do it when they wished.

The reception was still empty. Most likely, Nyaoya thought, the absent bureaucrats were in one of those rooms this very moment. They went through a door into the planning department—signs indicated it was the way to the Security and Safety Bureaux offices. The hour still being early, things were quiet, and they ran into no challenges, swiftly swishing through the portal for the department they sought. Like most places it was empty, but there was one present; judging by the enormous, voluminous multi-layered skirt of his excessively elaborate dress, full of pointless frills and decoration, it was someone of significant political or social power; perhaps even the current head of the city administration, or at the very least, of the security bureau. His hair was like a volcanic eruption; red-orange with hints of yellow, tied up into a single fountain-like towering bunch, rising above the height of his two majestic crimson ears. Occupied by paperwork, he did not notice them until Yu-ze accidentally pushed a paper weight standing perilously on the edge of a desk down onto the floor with a wiggle of his tail.

He looked up alertly then, and stopped them in their tracks with his assertive gaze.

“You’re not staff here,” he said, put some papers down, and smirked. “You look like you’ve been running. Or fucking. Or both.” He looked happy, somehow. “So—what is your business?”

Yu-ze took charge in explaining the present predicament and the sequence of events which had unfolded at the farm; of the weird critters that were, no doubt, the sentient fern-beasts of legend.

“Oh,” the potentate interrupted Yu-ze, “we know about those. We know that they are real. This came in just last night.” From the pile of telegraph despatches, he pulled one up and brandished it. It was from the Ministry of Agriculture, and was a notice that attacks by sentient fern-beasts had been reported, asking that any further such be forthwith brought to their attention.

“The Ministry of Agriculture,” he continued after showing it to them, “apparently has provisions for capturing the things for some kind of experimental farming plans. Several have been captured. According to the despatch, the most likely regions are much more towards the south—so I thought when that other one was arrested after trying to break into the stash he was just trying to make up excuses—“

Yu-ze and Nyaoya shared glances; their hearts raced; Yu-ze cleared his throat to interject, “I believe we know who that is.”

“He’s in the holding cell, down-stairs. Not entirely sure where the key is... kind of a bother.” He gave a sneaky smile and winked at them.

“We need to get him out!” Yu-ze pleaded. “He only tried his best!”

“Well,” came the reply, “perhaps we can work something out.” Which seemed to have been his intention’s all along.

“Like what?”

He put a hand under his head and looked out of a window; pedestrian traffic was picking up, wind tugged at the vibrant green thickets.

“One of you,” he said, pointed at Nyaoya, “you there, you come in under my skirt and suck me.” Nyaoya got on his fours and crawled towards him on the soft heated wooden floor, reaching his skirt, pulling it up, and slipping in underneath. “You,” he continued, “you can come here and fuck me while I’m sucked.” He stood up, pushing his seat backwards. It was warm underneath the thick rubber skirts; and smelled sweetly of arse. Nyaoya sat on his knees right beneath, craning his neck up towards the nest where the two long thigh-high boot-sheathed legs converged; licking those full low-hanging fruits, taking in their sweet aroma. He was well-hung too, for above those balls hung meaty and tender a gradually inflating prick, thick and long. He pulled it downwards to draw upon it as might new-born piglets suck at the mother’s teats, squeezing the balls gently meanwhile; he took the head, still wrapped in rich and lengthy foreskin, into his mouth, prodding under the skin with his tongue. The light was limited and red underneath—the colour filtered by the rubber skirts; and suddenly the scene was awash in external brightness, the skirt being pulled up in the back; he saw Yu-ze’s cock aiming for the hole, dripping with saliva, fully engorged though it had recently spent; he felt by the movement more than saw when it slipped inside. The administrator-whoever began to pant as the pummelling continued. Nyaoya sucked and played with his sack for some time, before he moved his hand slightly, until he felt the fitful stabs of Yu-ze’s warm flesh-syringe. When the cock was regrouping for another blitz, he pushed a finger in, and it joined the cock; the flashily dressed volcano-haired one spent then in Nyaoya’s mouth. After giving some cursory post-spend cleaning upon swallowing thoroughly, Nyaoya crawled out from under the skirt; the red-head was now bent over his desk as Yu-ze’s fucking picked up pace and finally culminated in a convulsive ejaculation inside the bottom.

The flashy one seemed out of it. He was still panting, and his eyes looked positively delirious. He would need time to recover—

Yu-ze, still with his cock buried in his plump bottom, leaned forward and whispered in his ear; he replied something, and though it sounded to Nyaoya like incomprehensible gibber, Yu-ze glowed with satisfaction that was not only sexual, so he assumed he had been told something relevant. Yu-ze flicked his hand towards Nyaoya, motioning him to follow, and he did; passing a cork board upon which were fixed keys, they fetched the one for the holding cell, and headed towards a stair and ascended to the second floor.

The door to the holding cell came into view. Yu-ze quickly tried the door and had it unlocked. The cell inside was large enough for several people should there be such a need; presently, Mitsu was the only one; he sat in a lounge chair reading some magazine from the pile on the wooden table.

“There you are!” Yu-ze exclaimed, “what a bother you got yourself into!”

“I didn’t know they had that place under supervision...” He looked away with some embarrassment.

“Well, let’s get out of here. I assume Lava Fountain will see to the rest... when he gets his wits back. But we can’t well return to the farm—the inventory’s dead, and things will have to be rebuilt before it can operate again. The Ministry of Agriculture apparently has experience with the fern-beasts—so it’s best if we leave it to the professionals.”

“Oh.” Mitsu sighed. “So my attempt at silly heroics was pointless.” He shrugged and looked out of the window. “I guess I’ll go somewhere else. See if I can find somewhere...”

“Oh, shut it right there!” Yu-ze interjected. “We had to work to get you out of here quickly, and we came to help you. Because we care about you. So we’re not going to let you just bugger off to wherever! You’re coming with us.”

“But—“

“No fucking qualifiers!”

“I agree”, Nyaoya added. “You owe me your bottom.”

Yu-ze looked at him with amusement, then turned back to Mitsu. “That’s how things are. You’re coming with us.”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“No, silly, you don’t. Let’s go.” Yu-ze took Mitsu’s arm and pulled him up. “Our dresses match, after all.”

“Where are we going then?”

“We can go anywhere, I guess.”


End file.
